A Well Played Game
by vickielippett
Summary: Papa Midnite has invited Constantine to his Friday the 13th Masquerade Ball. Hoping to steal some of Papa Midnites more potent supernatural "toys" John attends and takes Zed along for the ride. Zed has her own plans to liven up the party and brings out the competitive side in John Constantine. Little does Zed know, Constantine isn't playing by the rules.
1. A Tight Fit

Zed had tried dresses on for hours. This stupid mission had drained more than half her bank account and all of her patience. John had been invited to Papa Midnite's Friday 13th Masquerade ball and of course he couldn't turn up without a date. "Stupid, arrogant exorcist" she thought whilst taking out the rollers in her hair. Zed was under no illusions what the invitation meant. John didn't mix business with pleasure. No, this is all about his stupid pride.  
"_And make sure you're dressed to accompany someone of my stature love!_" he'd casually thrown over his shoulder, cigarette hanging from his smirking lips. She'd thrown her charcoal at him, marking the crisp white shirt which she always thought was a poetic contrast to the state of his soul.

Flipping her head upside down, she shook out the loose curls the rollers had created, so much softer and shinier than her usual haphazard curls. Perfect. She removed her dressing gown, revealing her only selfish purchase that day. A matching underwear set, turquoise silk and black lace, perfectly complimenting her coffee and cream complexion. She stretched to take her dress down from the hanger resting on the wardrobe door.

"Need a hand, love?" said a voice from the doorway.

Zed spun so fast she almost missed his appreciative glance down her body. "Get out! Don't you knock first?!" Her words tumbled out in a stream of indignant rage and fumbled, in a rush, to grab her dressing gown. Johns open look of amusement when the soft silk of the gown slipped out her fingers and down under the vanity table was the last straw. She turned round, and his face was the picture of innocence, curiously waiting to see what she'd do next. _Screw him_, she thought, she'd rather eternal damnation than bend over in her underwear.

"Get. Out!" hands on her hips, she refused to move and she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of looking uncomfortable. Slowly he turned round, and waved a hand, indicating for her to get dressed.

"Y'know, if you weren't after an audience love, you might want to shut your door when getting dressed. Anyone could have wandered in here." Though sarcasm drenched his voice, he did sound repentant, she thought. But he still hadn't apologised. Like hell that was going to happen.

"Looks like they already did. What did you want anyway, besides. The. Peepshow?" she asked, her words punctuated with every yank of the ridiculous tight dress over her hips.

"I just wanted to go through a few things with you before we left. I know you've met him before, but now he knows who you are and by now someone will have told him what gifts you possess. He's a collector and a relentless one at that. No matter what he says love, do not trust him. He could be handing you a drink with one hand and damning your bloody soul with the other." He was nervous, she could tell. The leg twitch, the constant flicking of his lighter. She wondered why he was going at all if he was so anxious.

"The only reason I'm even bloody going is because Papa Midnites collection is vast and more than a little dangerous. Hopefully I'll be able to "borrow" some of his toys, if I can figure where the sneaky bastards hiding it all." She could hear the smile in his voice at the thought. Even with all the power he wielded, nothing brought him more pleasure than outwitting someone the old fashioned way.

"So where do I come in then, because I gotta say, i'm not gonna be much help in the heels I'll be wearing" she said, stepping into her shoes and tugging at the zip on her dress.

"I'm gonna need someone to point me in the right direction. I'm not sure you'll be able to help, but Chas is with Geraldine this week and besides, you look much better in a dress" he turned with a flourish just as she was struggling with the zip at the back of her dress.

"But anyway, like I said, need a hand?" he said, moving towards her. She lowered her hands in defeat and turned around. Her dress was mostly backless, but the zip that went over her behind and to the small of back was proving troublesome. She felt his fingertips against her back, bringing the two sides of fabric together and inhaled the smell of cigarettes and men scent that seemed to follow him. She took advantage of his attention being elsewhere and studied him in the mirror. Suddenly his eyes flashed up to hers and his hands came up to rest on her shoulders.

"There, all done. Now, let's look at you" She turned and watched his face with curiosity. The dress was shimmering black and floor length with a slit up one side. It hugged her curves and plunged down to below her cleavage. Seeing Constantine's look now, she knew the frontless bra had been worth it. She could see him following the line of uninterrupted smooth skin from her clavicle to just above her belly button. Her hair fell in loose curls, now slightly straighter, to the small of her back and her features popped with the makeup she'd applied. His eyes finally rested on her face, paying particular attention to her lips, shimmering with blood red lip-gloss. Exposing her leg up to the thigh, she gave Constantine a scorching look, meant to unnerve.

"Will I do?" she asked coyly. This was the first time she'd actually seen him without a wise crack.

He took a deep breath and returned the look she'd given him. He knew what game she was playing. But only because he sometimes took part in a few rounds with her, himself.

"…Yes." He said, getting back to business, "and remember what I said. Stay away from Midnite. If he recognises you tonight you'll make the top of his to do list for more than one reason, looking like that."

She was starting to wonder whether she'd make someone elses "to do" list that night.


	2. Zed Wins This Round

Sitting in one of the armchairs, John contemplated how the mission was becoming more impossible by the bloody second. As if he didn't have enough to think about, he now had Zed grabbing him (metaphorically) by the balls every time he caught sight of her. He thought she could have proved useful locating Papa Midnite's magical "toys", and she could. But only if they actually reached the party, and as he traced the lines of her body in that goddamn dress, the idea was sounding less and less appealing. He knew the game she was starting to play and it was just his luck that he'd already disqualified himself. He didn't mix business and pleasure, but he was really starting to want to.

"Constantine?" Zed had stopped fiddling with her hair in the mantelpiece mirror for the moment and was now looking over her shoulder, questioningly, at him.  
Shit, had he been staring? _  
Get a hold of yourself man, she's off limits. You're John fucking Constantine. Not some bloody fuck-hungry teenager._

"Yes love, sorry, I was thinking that maybe while we're at the party, you should stick close to me. Wouldn't want anyone taking advantage of you now, would we?" It was partly true. He didn't want anyone taking advantage of her. Plus the idea of coming across her dealing with the unwanted attentions of some underworld bottom feeder was enough to make him want to punch a wall.

"You sure you're not just trying to keep me all to yourself?" smirking in the mirror at him, she applied a second coat of lipstick and with no hint of shame adjusted her cleavage, still keeping eye contact. John smiled and not unwillingly picked up the gauntlet she was clearly throwing down. Business and pleasure could go to hell. She may think she could beat him at this but if there was one thing John Constantine was good at, it was bringing women to their knees and making them enjoy being there.

He turned around and started making himself a whiskey because if there was ever a night for Dutch courage it was tonight. One way or another, this was going to one hell of a night.

"Maybe, but it doesn't matter anyway. What kind of man would I be if I left you defenceless, now?" said Constantine, his back to her. He took a swig, closed his eyes and happily set himself to his task. Coming up behind her in the mirror, he set his glass down on the mantelpiece in front of her. He made sure to brush past the top of her arm and he couldn't help but smirk at the goose bumps that rose in response. Good to know he was getting a reaction from her body already.

"Because as _flattering_ as this dress is" He ran his hand down her waist, admiring the material, "it's not exactly suited to demon fighting now is it? So I guess you're going to have to stick close to me" he inched closer, her ass barely brushing against his crotch. Suddenly she couldn't meet his gaze.

"…for safety of course" he moved away, abruptly breaking the spell he'd created. Not an actual spell of course. But he was pretty sure he'd sent her pulse racing, if nothing else. He could see her cheeks were flushed, and through her dress he could see her pressing her thighs together, seeking some kind of relief from the tension he'd created in her. She turned and met his gaze.

"So I guess how well tonight goes depends on you then?" she said, her tone thoughtful.

"What do you mean, love?"

"Well, you need me to help you get to this secret stash, or whatever. So you need me, don't you?" Constantine didn't like where this was going. She was walking towards him now, treating him to the sight of her hips swaying, thigh flashing and breasts moving to the rhythm of her walk.

She looked down at his haphazardly tucked in shirt and reached for the front which had somehow avoided being tucked into his waistband. Keeping his gaze, she slowly slid her hand down the front of his pants, tucking it in for him.

"So you'd best be very nice to me tonight or I might decide not to help you. Now I know, being the clever guy that you are, you'll be more than capable of keeping a girl happy for one night, right?"

His entire world suddenly became completely centred round the fact that her fingers were centimetres away from touching his cock and she bloody well knew it. She made to move her hand lower and felt it twitch against her fingertips. Smiling, she slid her hand out.

"That's much better. I made the effort, you could at least look presentable John"  
They were still stood toe to toe. He could practically count her eyelashes. She was the first to turn away, her face smug with satisfaction of clearly winning this round. She walked out to the back of the room to pick up her coat without looking back.

John took advantage of her momentary absence. He rushed to the far side of the bookcase, pressed his thumb against one of the more unnatural looking knots in carved wood and out popped a draw, seemingly from nowhere. Grabbing what he needed, he quickly replaced the draw, finished his drink and went to grab his coat. She thought she could beat him in this, but she forgot he had the powers of heaven and hell on his side. Maybe it was a bit extreme, but John Constantine was extreme and John Constantine always played to win.


End file.
